There is something critical that proprietors of fashionable clubs and lounges, especially in Nairobi’s uptown areas, have to constantly remember, make hay while the moon shines.
For there is no fickler patron than the Nairobian partygoer. Clubs and lounges in this disloyal concrete jungle may be trending today, and in two or three years, they disappear off the asphalt, as if they had never existed. Others stubbornly hang around, like abandoned old men, in an old people’s home, just waiting to die.
